


Las Vegas Natives

by writewithurheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Crossover, Drabble, Gen, set post season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23554150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: Just a drabble idea that both Felicity Smoak and Spencer Reid grew up in Vegas and went to MIT.
Relationships: Felicity Smoak & Spencer Reid
Comments: 19
Kudos: 89





	Las Vegas Natives

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is or where it could go, but my idea is that this is happening after the Undertaking and before Season 2...and just, yeah...here's a thing.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” 

Felicity squeals as she jumps at a tall beanpole of a man who grins and hugs her back after a beat. To be fair, she just threw herself at him without much of a chance for him to recognize her. She’s had a fairly crappy day and it’s great to see a friendly face.

“Lis! It’s good to see you.” 

“It’s been ages since I last saw you! How’s your mom doing? I know my mom says she’s doing fine, but you know what she can be like, always looking on the sunny side of things. What are you up to now? Putting those degrees to good use?” She pulls back and pats his shoulder. Only with distance does she notice Spencer’s companion: a fine looking man who could give Oliver a run for his money, although a little less bulky.

“I, uh, work for the FBI.” 

“FBI?” Felicity spots the badge on his companion’s belt and then pulls back to see Spencer’s. Her heart skips a beat. “Wow,” she stutters to cover it up, “who would have thought? I pegged you as working for some big research company or something. Oh! Or a novelist. Although you were always more Sherlock Holmes than Bill Gates.” 

She frowns as she goes to ruffle Spencer’s hair. “You got tall.” 

Spencer laughs. “That happens when you go through puberty.” 

“Smart ass.” She shoves him playfully and jerks her head towards his friend. “You going to introduce us, Spence?” 

“Derek Morgan. FBI.” The words are smooth and charismatic, with that self-assurance that just oozes out of handsome men. None of the toxic playboy swagger, so he gets bonus points for that. 

Felicity grins at him. “Felicity Smoak. MIT, Class of ‘09.” 

“MIT,” he says, eyes darting to Spencer. “That where you met?” 

She snorts. “Oh, no. We grew up together. Smartest kids in the class. No one wants to hang with the nerds.” She holds her fist out and Spencer rolls his eyes as he bumps fists with her. “My field is computer science and cyber security. So what brings the FBI to Star City?” 

Spencer shifts uneasily and glances at his partner. “Actually-” 

“So you knew Reid when he was a kid.” Morgan cuts in.

“Back when we were getting banned from casinos and eating way too many bar nachos that we would only regret later.” Felicity winks at Spencer. “Did he ever tell you about learning to hotwire a car?” 

“We were brought in to investigate the Undertaking,” Spencer cuts in. “We don’t usually come in after the fact, but this is a scale we’ve never seen before.” He glances around. “I didn’t know you were working here.” 

“Well, after Cooper died, I just needed a change.” Felicity shrugs, uncomfortable with the focus on her life choices. “Does this mean you’re investigating Malcolm Merlyn? Is that something the FBI does?” 

“We’re with the Behavior Analysis Unit. We try to figure out why killers do what they do,” Derek Morgan explains. “But what I’m more interested in is hearing about young Reid. What’s this about hotwiring cars?” 

“Am I not allowed to talk about that? Does that break some sort of FBI policy or something?” She asks. “I definitely should not be talking to g-men about breaking the law. That seems like a bad idea. Like I’m incriminating myself or something. I should probably stop talking now. We should get lunch or dinner or something while you’re in town.” 

“Yeah. It’s been years.” 

“We geniuses have to stick together. Your friends are welcome too,” Felicity says, “just leave the badges at home so I won’t get in trouble. I’ve been arrested enough in the past couple weeks.” She spots Quentin Lance walking towards them with another suit. Her distraction draws the attention of Spencer and Derek. 

“It’s Hotch,” Derek says, while Spencer focuses on her statement. 

“You were arrested?” 

Felicity waves him off and smiles at Lance. “Detective.” 

“It’s Officer now, Miss Smoak,” he corrects. 

“Smoak. You were questioned by the police shortly before the Undertaking,” the suit says. 

Felicity smiles stiffly. “Dete- Officer Lance will tell you the charges were dropped.” 

“We were investigating her involvement with the vigilante,” Lance fills in. “Actually, she’s the person to talk to if you want to poke around Queen Consolidated’s servers.” 

“We have our own forensic analyst.” The suit says. He seems like the humorless type. 

At the door of the lobby, Felicity spots John Diggle. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch. I’ll see you later, Spense. Text me.” She tries not to run away from the g-men, tries not to think about what they might find. There’s too much they might find and Oliver’s still missing since the night he dropped off that bottle of wine he owed her. A deep breath calms her enough that she doesn’t turn around to glance nervously at Spencer and his friends. 

She catches up with Digg at the door. He frowns at the group in the lobby. “Who’s that?” 

“An old friend. Turns out he joined the FBI.” She shrugs at Digg’s uncomfortable look. “We’re getting dinner while he’s here. I’m sure it’s fine. Right?”


End file.
